The camp was a makeshift thing, consisting of small embankments for the few archers the Vermilion force could muster, as well as portable wooden walls with carved-out slits to look through, which, at the fore of the camp, looked like pincushions thanks to the ceaseless Azure barrage. Currently, those of the Vermilion footmen not already holding the frontlines were hiding behind several of these wooden shields, perhaps hoping that they’d never be asked to join the melee. Beyond the shields, spikes surrounded the outer edges of the camp in case enemy cavalry attempted a direct charge, and, at seemingly-random locations throughout the Vermilion territory, the ground had been opened up and filled with spikes, providing an effective way to funnel the enemy troops in case they ever managed to overwhelm the frontline and go all-out on the offensive.
At the sight of us, the footmen in black-and-red parted in an orderly fashion, and within minutes we’d passed through the outer environs of the camp and reached the heart of it, where, within a square wooden structure covered with the Vermilion banners, which created a sort of roofless tent, the Lord Suzaku himself awaited us. Before entering, we dismounted our horses and Fury led our group, as he was in charge and would be the player the characters of his World were familiar with.
“You are late, Deshi[1],” Lord Suzaku reproved, though his tone was pleasant and familiar.
“Apologies, my Lord. I have brought reinforcements with me,” Fury responded, acting the obedient subject. At the sound of his words, Lord Suzaku finally seemed to notice us, as though we’d suddenly materialised before his eyes. The Lord was clad in deeply-crimson armour, more pristine and intricate than what Fury wore, and, surprisingly, he was helmless, his hair tied back in a warrior’s knot, similar, yet slightly different, to that of the now-extinct White Wolves. His face seemed old, marking him as in his forties or fifties, and yet, I got the feeling that he was the same age as the Lady. Of all the people I’d encountered in this World, the skin around his eyes were the darkest I’d seen, perhaps due to the countless deaths wrought by his hands, after all, he and the Lady had caused this war, and where the Lady employed her vassals to do most of the killing, Lord Suzaku was perhaps someone often seen at the fore of his army. A pair of swords hung from his waist, similar to what Fury used, though again, the scabbards and hilts were far more intricate and these were probably imbued with the same bloody magic that Nobushige’s Yari had utilised to grant him supernatural resilience. Surprisingly, the Lord was alone within this roofless tent, and I wondered where Nobushige was in this version of the World.
“Excellent. Make haste and carve a bloody swathe to the Azure camp. Once within their base, wipe out their archers so that our troops can push forth unopposed. Make sure to eliminate Seiryū-sama, lest her arrows spoil our advance. When you have slain her, bring me a lock of her ebony-black hair as proof.” His voice was resolute, though had a pleasant edge to it, which contrasted the Lady’s chillingly-evil tone. I wondered if I’d chosen the wrong side, as this man seemed quite unlike what I’d imagined and was perhaps a more fitting leader than the Lady, but then again, appearances often deceived.
“Anything else you wish of me?” Fury inquired.
The Lord seemed hesitant for a moment, but then said, “Leave Seiryū-sama’s body where it falls, with all the respect that the dead deserve. Take nothing from her but a lock of hair.”
Isn’t that counterintuitive? I wondered. If we just leave her body, she’ll be reborn once dawn comes and make her escape… but, perhaps the plan is not to kill her permanently, unless he doesn’t know about her magic.
“As you wish,” Fury acknowledged and ushered us out of the camp’s inner sanctum.
“That won’t kill her,” I said, as soon as we’d left the inner camp. Ismail looked at me, confused.
“I know,” Fury replied and smiled confidently, “I have it all under control.”
“What now?” Ismail asked.
“For now, we make our way to the Azure camp, deal with the archers, and then face Seiryū-sama in battle.”
“Let’s go,” Verdugo urged impatiently.
The four of us made our way to the frontline, where we were steadily losing ground in favour of the blue footmen and their relentless archers. By the time we saw the first flash of Azure, we’d drawn our weapons and charged in head-first.
I felt the same bloodlust that I’d experienced in the fight for Kakon-shi and knew that the supernatural influence of the Shigurui-no-Kumo still held sway over me.
Verdugo struck the first killing blow, lancing an unlucky footman through the neck with expert precision, and then slamming his shield into the man’s chest while wrenching the bronze blade free in the same movement, nearly separating his head from his shoulders. I followed behind him with a forward leap chained into a Quick Draw that killed three men who’d been neatly stacked shoulder-to-shoulder. Fury and Ismail both scored their own first kills shortly thereafter, and though the going was slow at first, we quickly found a way to cover each other, while still maintaining our own separate killing fields as we pressed deeper into the enemy lines.
The Azure fighters seemed emboldened and, even in the face of our might, didn’t stop coming. They no doubt trusted that their Lady’s magic would save them from this death, and that it was more important to keep pushing than to give any ground. The archers likewise shared this insane recklessness and fired into their own ranks, in an attempt to halt our cruel progress. More often than not, the arrows found a home in their comrades, though a few slapped me across my armoured front and bruised my skin, though never drawing any blood. Ismail and Verdugo were not as lucky, as an arrow caught Verdugo in the upper arm and one scored a line across the side of Ismail’s face, clipping his ear. Fury on the other hand was like a rock wall, repelling countless arrows with his helm, shoulder-guards, and Dō, while remaining completely unfazed by it all. The blades in his hands were deadly things that cut every one of his opponents to ribbons, though his style was cautious, despite the imperviousness of his armour.
I noticed that my movements started to flow more easily and that every strike, stab, and slash all found their intended marks effortlessly. Before long, my muscle memory had taken over and I became a whirlwind of steel, pushing deeper-and-deeper into enemy lines, until I was surrounded on all sides by Azure footmen with murder in their eyes. I left behind me a long bloody trail and didn’t notice how far I’d pushed until I heard Fury’s voice in the distance, imploring me to slow down, though I paid him no mind and simply let my body lead, while the background melody perfectly accompanied every death that I wrought with its sombre tones.
“Wait!” Fury yelled again, distantly, but I was in too deep to be able to fall back, and, really, I didn’t need their help taking down these low-rank footmen, who fell on my blade one-by-one as though this had all been choreographed in advance.
A moment later, I realised I hadn’t been the only one Fury called out to, as Verdugo suddenly joined into the killing circle I’d carved with my blade, and where footmen constantly flooded in from all sides, just to be slain before they could lift their blades. He quickly proved he hadn’t been all talk, as his spear was a fearsome thing that moved with a mind of its own, spinning in his hand and finding every weak point on the enemies before him, slaying them with pinpoint precision, as though he was intricately familiar with human anatomy. There was a clear difference between us. I moved mostly by instinct and muscle memory, whereas he moved with precision and an efficiency borne of long practise. It was hard to believe that he was supposed to only have defeated the same Stages as me, but perhaps he’d just worked hard to reach this point early on.
In my distractedness, I overextended carelessly and an opportunistic footman almost chopped my arm off, but before his katana descended on me, Verdugo’s spear passed by my neck and pierced my attacker through his solar plexus. Unless I misinterpreted his dangerous rescue, I’d think he was trying to prove how easily he could kill me… but, odds were that he was just being an overbearing douchebag trying to prove a point. Still, the spearhead passing by my neck made gooseflesh ripple across my skin. I quickly regained my composure and finished off the speared guy with a horizontal slash at his throat, severing his head amidst a crimson spray.
This tale has been unlawfully lifted from Royal Road; report any instances of this story if found elsewhere.
When the enemy numbers were starting to dwindle, and Fury and Ismail finally caught up, we had to wade through a field sown with severed limbs and drenched in blood and the crimson rain. We were all soaked through and caked with guts, blood, and everything else horrible you could imagine. Verdugo and I led the group as we reached the archery embankments, but, by now, most of them had already switched to swords and died amongst their fellow men, and those few that still remained were too out of their mind with fear that they simply ran away as we drew near.
We passed through the outer perimeter of anti-cavalry spikes and traps, the design of which seemed to almost mirror the Vermilion camp’s setup, and though pockets of footmen still remained, they were relatively few, though a few Samurai were among them. Most of these gave us no trouble, except for one…
Right as the camp’s inner sanctum came within view, an arrow cleft the air with a whoosh and hammered straight into Verdugo’s shoulder, right above where the arrow had hit him in the arm earlier. Then came a shower of arrows, and I quickly moved in front of our group, my sword waiting in its scabbard. I charged a powerful Quick Draw and, as soon as the arrows were within range, let it loose, crushing the wooden shafts and scattering their trajectories with the wind of my strike. Without pausing, I pushed towards the group ahead of us, where footmen and a lone Samurai were guarding an archery unit. The Samurai yelled something and the footmen charged alongside him enthusiastically. I saw a brief glimpse of his face beneath the wide brim of his helmet. It was Lord Mitsui.
Part of me expected him to recognise me as the distance between us shrank, but his eyes shone bright with hate and none of the man I knew was visible within their dark, treacherous depths.
Four footmen moved quickly to intercept me and I deflected the first attacker’s sword, dragged my blade across his abdomen, then carried the blade into the next guy before he was prepared, twisting my grip on the hilt and swinging the blade at an upwards angle to cleave through his neck. I dropped to my knees while spinning around, just as the third’s blade passed above me, and fired off a Quick Draw from down low with a rising motion, cutting straight through the guy and continuing into the fourth, where it settled in his side, below his armpit, but I continued moving, pulling the blade with me as I spun around him, leaving a long and cruel cut all along his upper torso that sheared through his armour, front-to-back, completely disabling him, though not killing him immediately.
I couldn’t get to Mitsui before he reached Verdugo, and I saw the black-clad player raise his shield against the Lord’s vertical Quick Draw, which shredded through it with the ruinous force of the attack and knocked Verdugo onto his ass. Before Mitsui could push forward and strike a final blow, Fury zoomed past him with a flurry of his twinswords, dealing a dozen shallow cuts that forced Mitsui on the defensive. A moment later, as I ran to back them up, Ismail charged in, piercing the Azure Samurai through a weak point in his armour, though he quickly wrestled the grip from Ismail and pulled him forwards. I thought Fury would strike the Samurai from the back, but he was now engaged with a group of three footman that were giving him no opening to strike at their leader. Just as it seemed like the defenceless Ismail was about to be struck by the Samurai’s katana, Verdugo leapt forward, past the fallen Ismail, and with a single lightning-fast thrust, jabbed the tip of his spear into Lord Mitsui’s exposed neck, digging deep enough to immediately drop the Samurai to his knees, with blood rushing from his body in thick waves.
By now, most of the footmen and archers were upon us, though these archers weren’t firing with the same reckless abandon that had seized the archers at the front of the camp, and instead they took their time picking their targets, while avoiding their fellow men.
I’ll admit, I felt bad for Mitsui, as he lay dying at the feet of Verdugo. I’d wanted to be the one to fight him, and deal a merciful strike that’d instantly kill him, instead of leaving him to bleed out. Death would come quickly for him regardless, but his final minutes would be spent in agony.
A flame roared in my chest and I surged through the footmen with as much speed as I could muster, carving through them before they could react to my presence, and continuing towards the archers in the back that were forcing my teammates to use the dead Azure footmen as cover.
I made quick work of the archers, who were unable to hit me at point-blank as I shot out from the group of footmen that were falling in my wake, and, within minutes, every last one of Mitsui’s men were dead, while blood still rushed from his neck and trickled down the easy slope towards the No Man’s land, where the pale tree waited like the white Reaper of Souls.
All of a sudden, I felt as though the wind was knocked from my lungs and the colour drained from my vision. Without warning I dropped to my knees, and I saw Verdugo make his way to me, but Ismail grabbed him by the shoulder, stopping him.
“Thank you for saving me,” he expressed sincerely.
“Don’t make me do it twice,” Verdugo replied harshly, though perhaps it was just his way of being modest or maybe he was just not great at social interactions.[2]
Fury came over to me and squatted down in the soft earth next to a crimson puddle that was either blood, red rain, or a mixture of both.
“You okay?” he asked me, with concern in his eyes.
“I’m… good…” I replied in-between breaths. I’d clearly overexerted myself, which I hadn’t experienced in a while, but perhaps that’d been the point of this Stage, after all, there’d been a ridiculous number of footmen to go through and no backup from the Vermilion troops whatsoever… though maybe that was due to the fact that we were now four players, since combined we were like a small army.
Verdugo was standing in the back next to Ismail, as he pulled out a healing potion and downed its contents in a single gulp. Out of all of us, he was the only one with any wounds worthy of healing, which, considering how we’d killed over a hundred footmen and archers combined, was a pretty solid outcome, granted, we’d yet to fight the boss. I suddenly realised something. I’d equipped my Alchemist’s Sash but had completely forgotten to actually tie any potions to it. I quickly remedied this by equipping my two ‘Weak Healing Potions’, though the Modest ones I kept in my inventory where they would be safe until I needed them.
After a minute or so, I felt like I was able to stand again and Ismail came over to join us, as Fury helped me to my feet.
“How did you learn to hit arrows mid-flight like that?” he asked, no doubt referring to my Quick Draw earlier.
I scratched my head. I didn’t actually know, truth be told. After all, it was just a reflex to me.[3] “Practice, I guess,” I responded, blatantly.
He didn’t seem satisfied with that answer, but Fury quickly cut in before he could ask anything else. “Does everyone remember Lady Seiryū’s moveset?”
“Her what?” I asked.
“Moveset,” Verdugo repeated, as though that was any help.
“You don’t know her moves??” Ismail replied, almost outraged at my ignorance.[4]
“Was I supposed to learn that somewhere?”
“Well, no, but it’s common sense to buy that kind of information before trying to beat a Stage, especially one as difficult as this,” Fury answered condescendingly, though I doubted it was on purpose.
“And where, pray tell, do I buy such information?” I replied, somewhat irritated.
“We all went back to the Forgotten Village and bought it from players who’ve already cleared this World.”
“That sounds dull,” I said honestly.
“Beats dying,” Ismail replied rudely.
His words had a chilling effect on Fury, who seemed to greatly disapprove, perhaps for my sake, though he didn’t verbally reproach the comment.
“So, anyone care to share this info?”
Ismail and Fury traded glances, as though it was supposed to be some big secret, or maybe they thought they could squeeze money from me. Before either of them made up their minds, Verdugo pushed past them.
“It’s simple,” he said. “Seiryū has only one attack you must avoid, the rest of the attacks can be dodged or blocked. The telegraph for that move is that she pulls a petal from her bowstring and turns it into a golden arrow. Anyone that attack hits will be gravely injured.”
“That seems simple,” I agreed.
“The only difficult thing is getting to her, because of Hayato. He will try and keep us at bay, and killing him is ineffective as Seiryū will just revive him with a special arrow.”
“Wait, Hayato is still alive??” Ismail suddenly questioned.
“You didn’t know?” Fury replied with an eyebrow raised. “Where did you get your info from.”
“Alright, enough debating,” Verdugo demanded, pointing to the horizon, where the sun was perhaps half-an-hour away from disappearing.
“Shit! We have to hurry!”
“What happens when the sun sets?” I asked.
“The Lady retreats, and though that completes the Stage, it gives us the worst result, not to mention, it makes the Alt-Mode impossible.”
“Let’s go then,” I urged.
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[1] Japanese for “Follower”, “Pupil”, or “Disciple”. It has a lot of ways to be interpreted, but in this context, considering what I knew about the Vermilion Bird’s religious fervour, the most accurate translation was probably “Disciple”.
[2] That certainly would explain a lot…
[3] Imagine trying to explain to someone how you are able to balance on a one-wheeled bicycle or a tightrope.
[4] Kind of ironic, wouldn’t you say?